


Words Whisper, Actions Scream

by Zavoj



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7127135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zavoj/pseuds/Zavoj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the years, the influence of illegal battling rings, called "The Pits", have grown in the Kanto and Johto regions. As the battles become more violent, more and more dead pokémon are being found dumped in mass grave sights.</p><p>Erika cries for action to be taken against the ring leaders of this operation, and the gym leaders of the sister regions agree. Volkner is called in to go deep undercover, infiltrate The Pits, and bring down the ring leader. But everyone is worried; has the strongest gym leader of Sinnoh bitten off more than he can chew?</p><p>Volkner/Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank **Penguiduck** for letting me bounce ideas off of her for the plot. And also **dark_wing19** for betaing for me! These girls are amazing people~! :3  
>   
>  This is sort of anime/game worlds meshed together. So just be aware that not everything will be consistent with either one.  
>   
> [This](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDX1m0Y2Vkg) was what inspired this story.  
>   
> Lastly, I do not own pokemon. :(

Mysh ran ahead of you as you jogged through the woods surrounding Celadon City. The jolteon stopped at a fork in the road and turned back to look at you. Noticing the considerable gap between herself and her trainer, she whined and sat down. As you reached her, you wiped sweat out of your eyes and took a deep breath. The sign told you that the Cycling Road lay to your left and Celadon City lay to your right, but the Celadon Forest Trail you'd been following abruptly ended there. 

You glanced one direction, and then the other, while you caught your breath. Mysh whined again and barked at you. This was her one day a week to have you all to herself, and she hated spending it sitting at a trail fork. 

"Calm down," you told the jolteon, glancing around the forest again. It was your day off, so you really didn't want to spend it in Celadon. It had been a considerable amount of time since several of your pokémon had had a chance to stretch. And there was the matter of your braviary… He was extremely displeased with you, and hadn't been out of his pokéball in a couple weeks. 

Mysh scratched at your leg with her forepaw, causing you to look down. Her spiked fur was beginning to stand on end in her frustration, and you could see the beginnings of electric sparks on the tips. 

"Alright, alright!" you said. "We're going into the woods." You motioned straight ahead. "Stick close." The jolteon barked happily as you stepped off the path and began jogging down a narrow pokémon trail. You wondered silently to yourself as you jogged if this was one of the trails Damon and Toby used while they were hunting. As a clearing approached, you shook your head to rid yourself of work related thoughts. 

Mysh did a lap around the clearing. Her pointed fur began to settle down as she rubbed up against bushes and trees, discharging the electricity. You sat down on the grass in the middle of the clearing and observed the surroundings. It was quieter than a forest should be, and you hadn't encountered a wild pokémon since you'd been about five miles south of the city. The soft cooing of a flock of pidgey turned your attention upwards. If they were smart pokémon, they wouldn't land until Celadon City was miles behind them. 

Taking advantage of your distraction, Mysh pounced on you, knocking you onto your back. You laughed as she licked at your face. Pushing her off, you sat back up and sighed. "What should I do, Mysh?" you asked her, putting a hand on her head. For as prickly as she looked, her fur was actually extremely soft. The jolteon looked back at you reproachfully. Her glare told you what you already knew and what a couple of your other pokémon thought, too: Leave Celadon City and never go back. 

"Don't look at me like that," you told her, roughing up her hair and pushing her head away playfully. "Just be happy I care about you guys and don't make you join in." 

Mysh growled at you before standing up and making her way to the edge of the clearing. You shook your head. You'd give anything to just leave sometimes. Disappear, return to Unova, and put your past behind you, but you were needed, whether your pokémon understood or not. 

"I still let you guys out," you told her. The jolteon continued sniffing at the bushes. Her cold shoulder gave you the message: Not often enough. 

"I saved you from that awful trainer." It wasn't quite the truth; you'd traded a teddiursa for the frail, mange infested jolteon the first week of your new job. And as valiant as that sounded, it was only because the big burly man had threatened to break your neck if you didn't trade. That same pokémon, now an ursaring, terrorized the pits in Goldenrod City. 

Mysh turned to look at you with fear in her eyes. You'd been together for four years, but your bond suffered due to your occupation and lack of unlimited free time. Your bonds with all of your pokémon weren't as strong as they could be. 

"Come here." You coaxed her forward encouragingly with your hands. Head drooped and ears back, she walked to you slowly and lay down. "I would never put you back there. Okay? Never." 

Unconvinced, the pokémon just lay next to you as you stroked her fur. You sighed and lay back, staring up at the sky. "Sometimes I wish I'd gone for badges like everyone else," you told the jolteon. She whined in response and inched closer, pressing her warm side to yours. "They'd come after me if I left. You know that right?" 

You let the question fade into silence as a rustling came from one of the bushes. Mysh yipped and hid behind you. Sitting up, you watched two familiar faces walk by. Luckily, they weren't turned in your direction quite yet. Shushing your pokémon, you recalled the jolteon to her pokéball. Then you lay back down and hoped the people would pass. Unfortunately, you had no such luck; no sooner had they disappeared from view did they pop out on the opposite side of the clearing. 

"Eh? What's this?" one of them asked. His companion didn't answer, but you sat up. "Oy! ____!" he called, giving you a wave. It was odd, really; in this setting, the man seemed harmless. 

"Hey," you called back, standing up. 

The one who had spoken, Toby, walked forward. His iridescent blue eyes sparkled mischievously as he grinned at you. "What are you doing in our hunting grounds?" 

You shrugged. "Just enjoying the weather." 

Toby scratched at his blond hair before glancing back at his companion. "Don't believe ya," he said, turning to you again. 

"Oh?" 

"I know your game. You got secrets like the rest of us." Toby's blue eyes narrowed. "But I don't like secrets." 

"Toby," his companion said coldly. "Enough." The other blonde regarded you just as coldly. His slate gray eyes seemed to pierce holes in your very soul. "____ is obviously training." 

"Lord knows she needs it!" Toby cackled, distracted from his previous train of thought. "Between that blind lizard and the pincushion, it's a wonder you're one of the seven." 

"You're forgetting my bird with a sense of justice," you replied sarcastically. 

"That giant feather pillow?" Toby asked, waving a hand in front of his face. "Personally, I'd kill the damn thing and stuff it. Would make a nice trophy, huh Damon?" 

The companion gave a slight nod, his piercing eyes never leaving your face. 

"Well, we have hunting to do. Don't scare them all away~!" Toby said cheerfully as he walked back towards the other blond. 

"I saw a group of bellsprout about three miles south of here," you offered. 

Toby contemplated this information for a couple seconds. "Naw. I think pidgey is on the menu tonight." The pair left you with those words, and you had to suppress a shudder. 

Toby gave you cause to be wary of him. Since his induction into the seven, deaths and injuries skyrocketed. And you seemed to be the only one who cared, aside from the cops. It came with the territory, you supposed, and Toby had a point about your pokémon. It was about time to square with your braviary, before the damage was irreparable. 

His pokéball weighed a ton as you held it out in front of you. You weren't quite sure what he would do when he was released, but you were positive it would not be a happy reunion. After a few seconds' pause, you pressed the center button and watched the red light that came from it. When the huge bird had materialized, he let out a loud screech and spread his wings wide. The ten foot wingspan was intimidating, but the five foot tall eagle pokémon with sharp talons proved just as dangerous. The braviary turned his head slightly, and caught sight of you in the corner of his eye. 

Folding his wings, Buzz turned to face you, screeching again. His discontent echoed throughout the forest. Wryly, you thought that the hunting party would be hard pressed to find a single pidgey after that display. Ruffling the white feathers around his face, Buzz clicked his beak and took a step towards you. His keen eyes had already deduced that you were in Celadon Forest, and not far away as he'd hoped. 

"Before you attack me again," you began, rubbing at the bandages covering your arm, "hear me out." 

Buzz stopped and cocked his head to the side, waiting for your explanation. 

"I didn't kill those rattata. I was just told to get rid of them, alright?" 

The braviary turned away from you, scolding you with several choice syllables of its name. When you didn't respond (how could you? he had a point), Buzz stretched his wings wide and took off in a huge gust of wind that almost knocked you over. He would be back; the draw of his pokéball would call him back eventually, if not his need to free you from the underground. But you knew he had to be hungry; even if pokémon went into a stasis inside their pokéballs, they still needed to eat. 

Toby came crashing back into the clearing, his jaw set. He was about your height, but much stronger as he grabbed you by the throat and slammed you into a tree, his eyes narrowing. 

"You did that on purpose. You're the goddamn mole, aren't you?" he demanded, his face only inches from yours. 

You shook your head. "I was just trying to reason with him!" 

Toby gave a snarled laugh. "You don't reason with those creatures. You command them!" He held you against the tree for a moment longer, before releasing you and stepping away in disgust. "If it were up to me, you would be eliminated like Caine," he spat. "Control that fucking bird, or I will." 

You laughed. Toby was mostly bark and very poor at handling willful pokémon, no matter his claims. 

"You think something is funny?" he snarled. 

"Yes," you said, moving away from the tree. "I'm a member of the seven, too, you know. Just because I can't control a pokémon known for being _valiant_ and _just_ , doesn't mean you're better. We're not exactly following the rules, now, are we?" 

Toby grunted "Just don't get in the way of us hunting." 

You nodded half heartedly and rubbed your neck. 

"Don't come to the pits tonight unless you plan on me kicking your ass," Toby said as he left, his blond head disappearing back into the trees. You sighed in relief. At least he hadn't pulled a knife on you this time. His challenge bothered you, though. You'd have to go that night, because not showing up would only make matters worse for your already precarious position. Your night off wouldn't be a night off after all. 

* * *

Buzz didn't return by sundown, so you left the clearing and headed back to Celadon City. There was no way that you would miss a challenge from Toby of all people. The boy was sixteen years old, not even a man, and he was cockier than any other trainer you knew. But that night, you would put him in his place. And his words disconcerted you; Toby had called you a mole. As far as you knew, there were no moles. As much as you might want to run to the cops and tell them everything, you couldn't. Too much was at risk for you to act upon that desire. 

The walk back to your apartment was quick, and the long overdue shower rinsed off all of the sweat from your jog that morning. Mysh lay on your couch taking a nap when you stepped into the living space with a towel wrapped around your head. Usually, you watched movies with the jolteon on your night off. Very seldom did you go out, and you never went to the pits. She whined at you when you didn't sit down next to her. 

"I have to go somewhere, okay?" you told her as you walked into your bedroom to find appropriate clothing for the pits. "Stay here in case Buzz shows up at the window?" you asked her. 

Mysh's response was to growl slightly in displeasure, but she did not move from her spot on the couch as you came back into the main room. "I'll be back by morning." 

You grabbed your coat and keys and locked the door behind you. Shouldering your purse, you pulled two pokéballs out of it and swapped them for two on your belt. The pits only allowed a trainer to carry four pokémon at the time of admittance. How many a trainer left with, however, was entirely dependent upon what the trainer did that night. Personally, you preferred not to wager pokémon, but most of the clients enjoyed the thrill associated with it. 

The streets of Celadon weren't super packed because it was a week night, but people still bustled to and from stores. That Sunday, the Easter Lopunny would come and hide chocolate eggs for all of the little kids. You smiled to yourself, remembering egg hunts with your brother and parents. It had been _years_ since the last hunt. Your family had still lived in the Unova region at the time. With a sigh, you continued on your way towards the pits. As you walked, less and less people occupied the sidewalk, and the spacing of street lights became further and further apart. 

Industrial districts, in general, are not known for being particularly safe after dark, but Celadon City's industrial district was not somewhere that anyone should walk alone at night. With that in mind, you pulled a pokéball from your belt and released the small otter pokémon from its ball. He looked up at you, confused, before glancing around. Normally Bubba did not come out of his pokéball on your night off, but when he recognized the area the dewott grasped a scallchop in each paw and nodded his readiness. 

You nodded back and continued walking, your first pokémon at your side as the frequency of streetlights grew even smaller. At the very last light before the Celadon City limits, you turned off the road and took the familiar path to a vacant warehouse. Two huge, burly men stood on either side of the sheet metal door. 

"What're ya doin' here, ____?" one of them asked as the other wrapped on the door three times with his knuckles. 

"Toby challenged me. I'm going to put him in his place," you replied, patting Bubba on the head. 

"'Bout time. Th' squirt things he can boss us 'round." 

"I'll be sure to let you know how it goes," you told him with a smile as the door slid open and you were admitted. 

Once inside, a young boy, maybe twelve, with spiked black hair ran up to you with a scowl on his face. "Toby said you'd show up." 

"Good to see you too, Caleb," you told the boy. 

Caleb crossed his arms and glared at you for several seconds before stating, "Toby is going to kill that little otter of yours." 

Your dewott growled in response and Caleb scoffed. Another man came up behind him and put a hand on his head. "Now, now Caleb. How many times do I have to tell you? Toby is not a god." 

Caleb harrumphed. Neither of you had to look up at the tall, lanky trainer with the gray baseball cap to know who it was. Jax was one of the seven, as were you and Toby. He smiled at you, and you smiled back. 

"Run along. You shouldn't be pestering her," Jax said, ruffling the young boy's hair. 

"I'm not a little kid," Caleb grumbled as he walked away, arms crossed. 

You and Jax shared a small laugh before he put his hands on his hips and looked you up and down. "The question remains, though… What are you doing here on your night off?" 

"Personal matter," you replied. As you looked him over in return, though, you noticed his bandaged cheek. "What happened?" 

Jax shrugged as you brought your hand up to touch the gauze. "Battle wound. Someone set their sneasel on me as I was walking home last night." 

"Seriously?" You let your hand drop from his face and regarded his brown eyes carefully. Usually there would be a hint of a joke by this point, if he were joking. 

He shrugged. "I'll have some wicked scars once it's healed. Besides, that's our lives, right? Honestly, I worry more about you when you walk home." 

You grinned and shook your head. Jax was probably your favorite member of the Seven, because he was a total sweetheart, despite your shared (illegal) occupation. "I wonder what you're doing in the pits if you worry about a girl walking home alone at night." 

"I can't have a chivalrous streak?" he teased. 

"Have you seen our line of work?" you replied incredulously. 

"So? A pretty lady should always have an escort," Jax said with a wink and a hugely flirtatious grin. You smacked his arm lightly. 

"It's a wonder you survive here." There was a cry from down one of the dark hallways and then the roar of the crowd. "Speaking of which… shouldn't you be working?" 

Jax gave an over dramatic sigh and scratched at the bandage on his cheek. "You _obviously_ wouldn't know since you don't normally come Thursdays, but I'm the host tonight." 

You groaned. That was your least favorite thing to do: greet everyone who enters and direct them down one of three hallways: to drugs, to sex, or to battles. "I'm so sorry." 

"No, no, it's alright," Jax said airily. "Where to?" he asked, bowing dramatically. "Battles, battles, or battles?" 

Giving a snort of laughter, you crossed your arms. "I thought there were other choices?" you asked playfully. 

Jax looked at you and grinned wide, exposing his perfectly white teeth. "Are you suggesting we get a room?" 

Bubba, who had been silent through the exchange, kicked Jax hard in the shin. 

"Ouch! Cool it, little guy. I'm teasing her." 

Bubba growled all the same, and you thought it better to continue on your way into the battling portion of the warehouse, which was by far the largest section. 

As you walked down the hallway, the chatter of the crowd grew louder. There were more cheers and you heard a trainer's whistle blow. The trainer was booed away as you came to the closed door. Sighing, you recalled Bubba to his pokéball before pushing the heavy metal door to the side.


	2. The Pits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so... no Volkner this chapter. I'm sorry! But hopefully the Pits intrigue you enough to continue reading~ :3 Which brings me to the next point... the Pits are a bit complex. So it'll take a couple chapters to explain them. This one should clarify quite a bit!
> 
> Thank you **dark_wing19** for being my beta, again! So without further delay, here's chapter two!

The smells of sweat, blood, and cigarette smoke assailed your nose as the door swung wide. The cacophony of voices, cheers, and jeers doubled in volume as you entered the adjoining warehouse. Your shoes clicked on the sheet metal platform as you shouldered your way through the crowded walkways. You'd always entered from the back entrance when you were working, so the throng of people was an obstacle you'd never faced before. Shoved to the center of the platform by the crowd, you quickly realized that it was less dense than the edges. 

Of course, this made perfect sense to you with the way the room was set up. "The Pits" was a very literal name for this warehouse. The elevated sheet metal platform had nine battling arenas at ground level, six feet below the platform. These formed a three by three grid, separated by the eight foot wide steel railed walkways. 

The only difficulty in walking towards the center of the pathways was that for maneuverability, you sacrificed the ability to actually see who occupied each pit. From prior knowledge, you knew that the four corner pits and the center one housed members of the Seven. However, which member was in which pit was anyone's guess. Nobody ever had the same pit two nights in a row, and half the time there was no set pattern to the rotation. 

You squeezed your way to the front railing of the corner pit you were nearest to. Disappointment fluttered in your stomach as you saw that two girls occupied this pit: a woman in her mid twenties by the name of Janine (a member of the Seven), and her challenger. 

Stuck against the rails now that you'd wormed your way to the front, you watched as Janine's mightyena sprinted at the opposition. The little rattata squeaked in terror and tried to flee, but was caught in powerful jaws. 

"Finish it with a crunch!" Janine commanded. The large black dog pokémon crunched down hard. The rattata let out a high pitched cry of pain and went limp. The trainer blew her forfeit whistle, but the mightyena ignored it. Blood dripped from its mouth as it crunched down on the unconscious body again. 

"Stop!" the challenger wailed. She couldn't have been more than twelve, and you couldn't help but wonder what she was doing in a place of such decadence. She ran forward to try and retrieve her dying pokémon. Janine cackled and motioned for the mightyena to drop the rat. She recalled him to his pokéball. The little girl ran forward and picked up the lifeless body of her pokémon, held it to her and cried. 

"Get this weakling out of my sight!" Janine called to the men you knew stood below your feet. The paths spectators and challengers walked above followed the ones you knew below, without the spider web of metal supports. Two of Janine's personal staff came out and grabbed the girl by both her arms, and a third came out for the body of the rattata the young trainer had dropped. 

"Who's next?" Janine called to the crowd, looking up at the people above her. You took this opportunity to pull away from the railing and move towards the center. The bad taste in your mouth did not go away as you left the first pit. While you were often put in charge of carcass disposal, you hated to watch the pokémon die. Every carcass made you hate the Seven and the King just a little bit more, and, not for the first time, you wished that you could escape from the brutalities of this place. 

Thankfully you'd never had to kill; you always heeded the forfeit whistle trainers were given. Janine never did, nor did Toby. The other four were about fifty-fifty, depending on how caught up in the battle they were, and how skilled their opponent was. 

The crowd was much denser here, and you really had to shove and elbow people out of the way to get close enough for a look. A large feraligatr stood in the center of the ring, whipping its head back and forth in search of its opponent. You glanced at the trainers and sighed; Toby stood at one end, his face composed in an even smirk. His opponent, a man in his sixties, was glaring at Toby with his mouth open in a snarl. 

"Only cowards hide their pokémon!" the older man growled. "It don't show itself soon, I'm goin after you!" 

Toby laughed happily, enjoying the challenge. With the trainer and feraligatr both focused on him, Toby's gengar fired a wicked shadow ball from the shadows of the rafters below the platform. The dark mass of energy hit the large lizard square in the back, knocking it over with a roar of pain. The crowd around you cheered. 

The teenager looked up at the crowd while his gengar sent another shadow ball at his opponent, not giving it a chance to stand again. Toby's eyes locked on yours, and his grin spread wide across his face. Silently, he mouthed "You're next." and grinned widely. With a shudder, you turned away from him and tried to push back out of the crowd to the middle of the walkway. You didn't want to watch the end of this battle. 

"____!" Toby called, stopping you in your tracks. The crowd quieted at your name, and all spectators turned to look at you. 

"What?" you snapped back, looking back at Toby with your eyebrows knit together and your lips scrunched tight into a thin line. 

"Won't you stay and watch the finale?" he asked sweetly. "Or are you too squeamish?" 

Glaring at him, you put a hand on the rail and planted your feet. "I _was_ headed to find a more interesting battle to watch. But I suppose if it's _that_ important to you, I'll stay." 

Your words caused Toby's mouth to turn down into a frown, but he returned to the battle at hand, despite the chuckles from the crowd. 

As a member of the Seven, you couldn't show weakness or appear to have a soft spot. You already had a reputation for sparing pokémon and never participating in _other_ illegal ventures. There were always questions about whether you were tough enough for the Pits. 

Working your way into the numbered ranks of Celadon City's elite was not an easy task for anyone, but it had been especially difficult for you. The King had to trust the members enough for face-to-shadow interactions with them. And the way to demonstrate that was to immerse yourself in the culture of the Pits: battling, gambling, prostitution, dealing, and killing. Yet you had managed to weasel your way in, and you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon. 

Trying your best to ignore the bloodied feraligatr that continued to fight below you, you let your mind wander to tomorrow, thinking about all the things you needed to do for work. While a member of the Seven was required to be available for battle (for a small fee) five nights a week and direct traffic flow between the three operations once a week, your days were far from empty. Each member had duties that helped run the Pits smoothly. Some chores were carcass disposal, recruiting, hunting, and building maintenance. 

You were positive that you would be on body disposal in the morning. After that, depending on the progress of cleaning, you'd probably be on errand and recruiting duty. Lots of bleach and lots of flirting; two things you'd never dreamed would go together so well. 

"You my next challenger?" Toby grinned up at you. He really did look harmless, if only a little demented. Pulled from your thoughts, you looked out at the field, where the feraligatr lay lifeless. Two of Toby's personal clean-up crew were tying ropes around the body to try and drag it away, while another two restrained the old man. Where were you going to dump _that_? 

"Only if you waive the fee," you replied coyly, knowing it would piss him off. Toby enjoyed control; bending him to _your_ will was a wonderful way to get back at the little psychopath. 

Anger flashed hot across his face before he shrugged and walked back to his side of the ring. You walked around to the stairs and descended into the pit. The smell of blood was stronger below, mixed with the smell of sweaty feet. It was very unpleasant, but it was just the smell of work. And at that moment, your reputation was more important than your comfort level. You had to win. You had to. 

"SEVEN VERSUS SEVEN!" someone screamed when you took your position facing Toby. Suddenly, the crowd swelled to twice the size. 

"Shall we make this interesting for our audience?" Toby shouted over the noise of the crowd. 

"How?" you asked, narrowing your eyes. 

"I pick your pokémon. You pick mine." 

You gave a laugh at the prospect and thanked Zekrom above that you didn't have Mysh or Buzz with you. And you could pick a relatively easier pokémon to kill than his pesky gengar. 

"Alright. Let's do it." 

"Perfect. Bring out the pincushion." 

"Don't have her with me. Pick again." 

"Prove it," Toby growled. "Let's see what's inside your pokéballs." 

Tossing them up, they released Bubba, your two pit pokémon, and your deino, Dragon (or "the blind lizard" as Toby had so affectionately called him earlier that day). 

"Smart woman," he growled in a low voice, barely audible above the roars of the crowd. "Alright. The blind lizard," Toby called. 

Your pit pokémon were having none of it, though. They were bred and trained to fight; releasing them and _not_ letting them battle was blasphemy. And had you had the choice, one of them _would_ be battling. Before either could start something, they were returned to their pokeballs in quick flashes of red light. 

The blind lizard - Dragon - was moving his head back and forth, absorbing the noise of the crowd and sniffing the air. A hush had gone over the crowd when he'd been released, but murmurs were beginning to start up again. 

"Alright," you said, and Dragon's head snapped around so he was facing you. "I chose your weavile," you told Toby. Your pokémon came charging at you happily when he heard your voice, and you had to step out of the way at the last second. He crashed into the steel supports behind you. Growling in frustration, he stood up and listened again. 

Toby was laughing with the crowd. "He's going to knock himself out _for_ me!" 

"Let's see your weavile!" you growled, unperturbed by Dragon's display of affection. The pokémon rushed you again with a little less force, and you allowed him to come into contact with your body. A sound like a cat's purr escaped his lips as he rubbed up against you. 

Toby was watching the pokémon at your side as you patted his head. "Sorry, not with me. Pick again," he mimicked, sticking out his tongue. 

"Prove it," you replied smoothly. 

"Excuse me?" Toby asked. 

"Send out Weavile or prove you don't have her." 

Grumbling, the teenager released his weavile from its pokéball. 

"Dragon, you're going to battle, okay?" At the word battle, Dragon stepped away from you and took a couple paces forward. He growled menacingly, and his short little tail wagged in excitement. 

"Prepare to bury it," Toby taunted as one of the men under the stands strode forward to state the rules, toss forfeit whistles at you, and call a start to the battle. The crowd had doubled in size again by this time. All of them interested to see a fight between "the Elite" of the Pits, and with pokémon they hadn't known either of you possessed. 

"We'll see who's laughing when you're the one burying a pokémon," was your only reply as Weavile darted forward in a quick attack. While she was a physically bigger pokémon, she did not hit hard enough to fling Dragon across the field as expected. 

Deino were extremely well known for their sturdiness, especially since tackling one another in the wild was one of the few forms of communication available to them. Dragon took the hit like it was nothing and you grinned; he had Weavile's scent now. 

Battling culture in the Pits was completely different from league battles in that pokémon reacted and trainers gave suggestions. The trainer's part was to train, and the pokémon did the battling. As you watched Dragon, though, you wanted to scream at him to dodge the attacks that Weavile kept firing at him. Between the fury swipes and quick attack, he was getting hammered. But Dragon was smart, and you trusted him. 

When the next quick attack collided with his body, he chomped down hard on the weavile's arm with a fire fang. She screeched in pain and recoiled as Dragon tried to chomp down again, getting only air. He growled a little in frustration and turned around to face the direction where Weavile had escaped. 

Weavile came in behind him with another slashing attack, but Dragon smelled her coming and turned around again. The dark type pokémon got a fire fang right to the face. As soon as Dragon had latched on to the creature's nose, he refused to let go. Even the weavile's long claws scratching at where Dragon's eyes should have been had no effect. Of course it didn't; deinos had no eyes. The fire continued to blaze in Dragon's mouth as he bit down harder on Weavile's face. She let out a high pitched cry of pain. Startled by the noise, Dragon let up his iron grip on the nose. Blood clung to his fangs and ran down Weavile's face in rivulets. And once the opponent was a fair distance away, she eyed your pokémon with more caution as she circled. 

"Use shadow ball you useless piece of shit!" Toby screeched at Weavile angrily. She looked at him and nodded slightly. 

"Dragon, use dragonbreath to keep Weavile from firing!" you called to your pokémon. Immediately upon the request, Dragon began turning in circles, releasing the scorching gas in a stream that extended several feet into the scaffolding. Weavile was on her toes, trying to avoid the attack so she couldn't concentrate on a counterattack. 

As Dragon came around to face you, you quickly scooted beyond the range of the dragonbreath as many of the cleanup crew below had had to do. Weavile was also doing stellar at avoiding it, but Toby wasn't paying attention. He was yelling at his weavile about how pathetic she was, and the dragonbreath scorched right across his shins, causing him to howl in pain. At the noise, Dragon ceased his attack. 

"DISQUALIFY HER!" Toby shrieked as the audience began laughing. 

"Actually... doesn't that mean I win?" you asked, thinking back to when you'd first started. "Landing a hit on a trainer ends a battle." 

The man acting as ref looked between the two of you and shrugged. Weavile attempted to take the moment of distraction to charge Dragon again. This time, the fire fang locked around the weavile's neck, and as Dragon crunched down hard, the body twitched and went still. Happily, Dragon dropped the body and ran to you. 

"FOWL!" Toby cried, still clutching at his scorched legs from his sitting position. "FOWL!" 

The ref shrugged. "No fowls here, kid. You know that." 

The crowd was roaring loudly at the results. If nothing else, this battle was a boost to your reputation and affirmed your position, but it was a hollow victory; this battle had cost a life. You pet Dragon's fuzzy head as you looked over at Toby. He glared at you but said nothing as you recalled your pokémon and ascended the stairs back into the throng of people waiting. 

"Battle me, ____!" 

"No! Battle me!" 

Cries for battles followed you all the way to the exit of the Pits. After heaving the heavy door open, you turned to survey the people demanding battles. With a tight smile, you told them, "If you want to battle me, come back tomorrow. I'm not working tonight." You closed the door behind you and sighed. 

The sight of the red and black lump on the field would not leave your head. You saw it as you closed your eyes, snapping them back open as quickly as possible. 

"You okay there, ____? You look a little pale." 

Looking up, Jax stood across from you, his gray baseball cap absent. 

"I just beat Toby," you told him. 

"You what?" 

"I- Dragon... we killed Weavile." 

"You're kidding me. You never kill anything." 

"I know," you replied, clutching your stomach. You suddenly felt extremely sick. "I think I'm going to throw up." 

Jax grabbed your arm and helped you outside. As you sat in the cool night air, your mind cleared. It had been necessary. You had to believe that. 

"How are you doing?" Jax asked after a couple minutes. He towered over you as you sat on the ground hugging your knees. 

"Better." 

"My first wasn't easy either," he said, extending a hand to you. 

Shaking your head, you opted to stay on the ground. Your stomach still twisting into knots as Dragon's bloody fangs flashed through your memories. "It was so easy for him." 

"Toby is ruthless. Of course it is." 

"No. For Dragon." 

"He's a deino, ____. They're pretty brutal critters." 

"Doesn't make it feel any more right," you replied. 

Jax bent down and patted your bandaged arm. "This partly about the bird?" 

You nodded. 

"Go home. Get some rest. Come in late tomorrow. But go spend time with Mysh, alright? She'll make you feel better." 

Taking his hand, you stood. He gave you a quick, reassuring hug before releasing a huge arcanine. "Take Archie with you. He'll get you home safe." The arcanine licked your arm once and you put a hand in the thick fur at his side. You didn't release your fistful of fur until you had to enter your building. 

Inside, Mysh greeted you at your apartment door. Buzz was roosting on the floor of the kitchen, the sliding glass door still open. You made it to the couch before the tears came. You cradled Mysh in your arms and she licked at the tears on your face. Buzz came up behind you and cooed softly, resting his head on your shoulder. All was forgiven for past wrongs, but the knowledge of what you'd condoned weighed even heavier on your heart for it.


End file.
